The Force
by Annamonk
Summary: "Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend." -Martin Luther King Jr. Not my sand box, just playing.
1. Chapter 1

Pansy glared down the Slytherin table at Draco. He didn't acknowledge her or even glance in her direction when she cleared her throat. His focus wasn't on anyone at their table. It never was.

It had been his own personal peccadillo at first. Taunting the mudblood companion of his most hated rival had satisfied his mean streak. He'd enjoyed watching her face crumple, seeing her ache. It wasn't unusual for him to enjoy twisting the knife. He was a Malfoy after all. no one had thought much about his little pass time. Then the mudblood had broken his nose and hobby had become obsession. She'd become the one he hated most, the one he wanted to punish. It might have stayed that way, but for the Yule ball. Punishing her took on a different tenor for him after that. The others enjoyed watching him carry on, and his obsession with Granger had spread. A few stray glances in fourth year had turned into the whole lot of them taking turns staring.

The other girls didn't care.

"You're glaring at Draco again." Millie yawned. "You might want to seem less annoyed."

"I'm sick of watching them drool over Granger." Pansy picked at the berries on her plate.

"She'll never make it through the war." Daphne shrugged. "Why should we bother ourselves?"

"What's there to do anyway?" Tracey glanced toward the Gryffindor table. "She doesn't even notice them."

Pansy nodded her head, but those words sat there, perched in her mind with some hidden importance. She glanced over at the leonine table and her eyes made contact with a pair of warm brown ones. Pansy smiled and noticed Hermione's lips twitch.

She didn't notice them. She never paid the Slytherin males any attention unless they wouldn't leave her be. Granger ignored them, but she had smiled just now.

Pansy grinned.

Granger didn't ignore her. Maybe she could get the Princess to notice her more often. She managed to downgrade her grin to a smirk. She needed some time to plan.

Pansy had stalked her prey for several days. Granger was actually interesting, and that was completely unexpected. She tutored the younger students of any house in any subject. The Slytherins only approached her on days when most of the house was planted in the stands watching the team practice. She never turned them away. Even when they asked crass questions, she smiled and answered. She always had extra sweets for them, but usually ate fruit because her parents didn't like her to eat empty, tooth rotting calories. Her muggle tooth healers weren't ready to adapt to spells being an option, so she respected them.

One of the Hufflepuff firsties brought her a bedraggled flower, and she charmed it and wore it the whole day. When Draco mocked her for it and praised the wizard that gave it to her for matching flower and witch so perfectly, she rolled her eyes. Pansy had fought the urge to hex him.

Incident after incident, she felt shame grow. The girl did nothing to provoke them. Granger might give as good as she got, and sometimes improve on it, but she was never the instigator.

Pansy fretted with the hem of her jumper as she stared into the library. She'd always assumed that Granger was just like everyone else, but she wasn't. She was kind and decent. She could twist a wicked hex when riled. She loved her parents and her fierce and frightening familiar. She'd followed Potter into some strange adventures if the rumors proved true, but she still sought peace.

Pansy shifted from foot to foot.

This had all gotten far too real.

A hand closed over her shoulder, and she whirled yanking her wand free of its pocket in her robes.

"You won't need that, Pansy." Neville Longbottom sighed and took a step back from her. "I'm not looking for a fight."

"Then why?" Pansy straightened her robes and dusted the shoulder he'd touched.

"She's my friend. Ron and Harry don't see her. She does all the work for them. She's kind and good. She's got a temper like a nesting dragon, and she's twice as dangerous." He met her eyes finally. "And, she's my friend. Always. Don't use her in some scheme or weird power play."

"She's too powerful to be used." Pansy shrugged. "Are you bonded?"

"No. That would be wonderful, but she needs more power than I have to balance her." Neville frowned. "She needs a triad."

"You think she'll wind up with Potter and the Weasel?" Pansy tilted her head.

"I think they would be the luckiest blokes alive, but it won't happen." Neville shoved his hands in his pockets. "Muggles view bonding differently. Hermione was shocked about marriage and bonding traditions in our society. She's probably researching it along with a million other things."

"And you're warning me off." Pansy smirked.

"No, I'm looking out for a friend." Neville rocked back on his heels. "We used to play together when we were both stuck waiting on the Wizengamot. I've never forgotten it."

"So, you expect me to believe you're worried about me." Pansy shook her head. "We weren't friends then and we aren't now."

"If you're playing some game and she gets hurt, it won't be a few tears and some angry words." Neville frowned. "You'll be hexed into the next century. Take a warning from an old acquaintance."

Pansy watched as Neville spun around and walked off. He saw a lot more than she'd ever realized.

"He should have been a Hufflepuff." Pansy shifted back and forth in indecision.

"He nearly was." Granger looked at her through narrowed eyes. "He chose to be a lion, just like I did."

"You heard everything?" Pansy felt her cheeks heat.

"Enough." Granger's eyes traced over her. It was disconcerting to be caught in her focus. "Caught you watching me a time or two. Thought you were plotting something."

"I was." Pansy slumped. "They all watch you. I didn't like it. You never even notice."

"I notice, but they want to use me and hurt me. They don't care." Hermione shook her head and set her curls to bouncing. "I need someone to care."

Pansy watched as Hermione Granger swung her bag onto her shoulder. This moment was ending, and she couldn't stand it. She knew there was something in this moment, some magic reaching out to her, and she grabbed it, or rather Granger's hand.


	2. Chapter 2

It had only taken a few stray words and a little conniving for Pansy to wind up assigned to be Granger's partner in every class they shared. Umbridge was convinced that Pansy was trying to spy for the glory of the Ministry and pure bloods everywhere, and they had a reason to be together and talk. It wasn't perfect, but it worked.

Draco glared every time Pansy strolled into potions and perched on her seat next to Granger, but she didn't care. Her initial plan had worked. It was a huge success, and it simply didn't matter any longer.

"I don't see why you were the one assigned to Granger." Draco frowned down at his breakfast.

"Because you wouldn't have been able to swallow down your urge to hex and torment her long enough to get her talking." Daphne rolled her eyes. "It's obvious."

"Well, what have you found out then?" Draco raised a brow and sat back. "Your little project isn't reaping many rewards."

"My grades are up." Pansy smirked. "I'm in no hurry."

Conversation turned, and Pansy hid her satisfaction. She was happily eating when quiet fell over the table. It was the kind of quiet that arrived before the storm. She looked up and saw Granger approaching. She really needed to teach her a few beauty charms for her hair. It was looking particularly askew in its ponytail.

"Hello, Pansy." Hermione didn't smile. She managed to look slightly annoyed. It was a better performance than she'd ever imagined. Their friendship was hidden in subterfuge, but she'd assumed most of it would be on her part. "We need to talk about our project for astronomy. I was wondering if you had a free moment."

"Don't we spend enough time together in class?" Pansy rolled her eyes and grabbed her book bag. "Let's get this over with."

They walked from the great hall together without exchanging a word. The quiet followed them as they escaped into the hall. Pansy smirked as the noise resumed once the doors closed behind them.

"Tossers." Hermione shrugged her bag's strap up closer to her neck. "I'll hear it from Ron in the common room tonight. He keeps insisting that I should refuse to work with you as it's an affront to the honor of Gryffindor."

"Being a failure wouldn't offend your pride?" Pansy arched one brow and glanced at her companion with a sideways dart of her eyes.

"Ron doesn't value my mind until our backs are against the wall." She examined the far wall of the hallway though there was nothing of interest there.

Pansy considered saying a few disparaging remarks about the most annoying redhead in the universe. The boy hurt Hermione on a near daily basis. He was quite easy to dislike, but voicing it would only hurt Hermione further.

"So, our project is all mapped out on that color coded study schedule you provided." Pansy felt her lips curve in genuine satisfaction because that schedule had helped improve her grades. "Why did you really come to my table this morning?"

"We need dittany." Hermione stopped and looked out a window. "Professor Sprout thinks Hagrid bred some creature that only feeds on it, but, even with her planting three times as much as she ever has, we don't have enough. I'm brewing pain potions and things to help with the infections as fast as I can, but I can't take Professor Snape's dittany. He's put tracer spells on all his supplies since my last raid."

"You're the one taking his supplies?" Pansy blinked a few times. The odd formality of his title juxtaposed against her actions left Pansy flummoxed. "Why?"

"Umbridge is torturing the halfbloods and muggleborns, even a few of the purebloods. She makes us use blood quills." Hermione held out her arm and the faint white lines layered under the pink ones told a horror story all their own. "Fourth years and up aren't taking anything. We give it to the younger years, even the stuff we get from Madame Pomfrey."

"What's an infection?" Pansy frowned and grabbed Granger's arm to examine it. At a certain angle, it seemed every word was mudblood.

"It's an illness. Since she's making us use the same quills again and again without cleaning them, we are all getting sick. When I asked her to clean the quill, she refused."

Pansy felt the next statement coming. Felt the nausea of it building. She didn't need to ask.

"You see, we all have dirty blood, so we can't be affected by sharing the quill. I told her she was wrong. That sharing blood was dangerous that there are illnesses and blood types to consider." Hermione wrenched her arm away from Pansy's grip. "She made me write 'I'm a filthy mudblood' five hundred times."

Pansy looked down at the ground. Hecate's hounds, what could she say?

"I'll find a way to get you the dittany." Pansy forced her gaze up. "And I'll help you brew. Let's tell Snape that I need to practice brewing for my O.W.L.S. We can use his stores without issue then."

"He won't let me have extra brewing time." Hermione shook her head. "I wanted to tutor Neville."

"He will give it to me." Pansy flipped her hair.

"Let me guess." Hermione smiled the tiniest bit and shook her head. "You're one of his favorites."

"I'm everyone's favorite." Pansy smirked and made a silly face. "Admit it. I'm your favorite, too."

"Well, I don't hate you." Hermione bumped her shoulder gently with her own. "I need to get to Runes. See you later?"

"At the appropriately colored section on my schedule." Pansy waved her off and headed down to the dungeons. Snape needed some softening up.


End file.
